The Prodigal Children: Book 1 - The Dark Waltz
by The Noble Coffee Bean
Summary: We're all prisoners to history's design. As stones shaped by the sculptor, we are made who and how we are by history. A reboot of "The Dark Waltz" Co-authored with Ghost Writer Orange-kun. Alternate Universe. Negi x Eva, eventual Chizuru x OC
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:** Negima! Magister Negi Magi is the property of its respective owners. References to other literary characters (fictional and nonfictional) are property of their respective authors. Reinhart von Luitpolding is property of Ghost-writer Orange Kun and used with his permission. All other Original Characters are property of The Noble Coffee Bean.

* * *

Prologue

 _1_ _8_ _h_ _Century,_ _Suzerainty of Wallachia, Ottoman Empire_

 _How could anyone even entreat the notion to abide in such a residence_ _?_

The young girl looked up at the ruins standing before her. The monstrous structure had obviously seen better days. Ivy choked the thousand or so stone steps leading up to the impressive fortress, certainly a daring climb. The entrance laid open for any to enter, though many a mortal soul who went in never came out alive. Sniffing the air gingerly, her heightened sense of smell betrayed the prevalent stench of cold, lifeless flesh and other such cadavers littering the castle grounds.

 _But, I suppose measures must be taken to ensure the mortals stay their distance… maybe with the exception of the occasional vampire hunter attempting to make a name for themselves._

Though she'd rather be in the hospice of a much warmer environment, she counted herself lucky. After all, it was very rarely anyone would be invited by the great Count himself, especially for those who dared to call themselves Purebloods.

The thought made the girl scoff. It appalled her to no end how those who were not born of the blood thought of themselves as pure of blood when they were born of conventional means. Perhaps it was more a convenience to refer to such individuals as Purebloods, for even those of distinction knew to avoid crossing paths with those of who were virtuous enough to hold the title which was bestowed upon others like herself. So wrapped in her thoughts she had become to the point she had failed to notice two heavily armoured guards materializing. Each bore a pike and crossed them in her path, thus barring her entrance into the castle.

" _Speak thy name and thy_ _p_ _urpose here_ ," the first of the two spoke in an archaic form of the local tongue, his voice as cold as the blood coursing through his veins.

" _Thou dare to_ _address the Lady Evangeline Athanasia Katherine McDowell of Galloway with such impudence?_ " the girl replied in the same, her voice carrying a chill worthy enough of freezing the blood of any living creature. _"_ _I embarked to this location on a personal invitation from His Eminence, the most noble_ _Vlad_ _II_ _Dracul_ _. 'Twould do thee well to inform thy master of my arrival._ "

The guard's demeanor seemed to change upon hearing the name of the young girl. Bowing deeply, he replied, " _I prithee forgiveness, for this humble soldier of fortune did not recognize th_ _y_ _visage. 'Tis a great honor of mine to welcome the noble_ Maga Nosferatu _to_ _Poenari Castle_ _¹_ _._ _Please, tarry for a moment, and I shall inform our lord thou hast arrived_."

Returning the bow, Evangeline watched with disgust as the young guard took his leave. If there was one thing she hated, it was being talked to in such a flowery manner. The guard was young, but at least he knew his place and who was deserving of the respect she received. She had gained a name for herself throughout the mainland of the continent. Not only was she one of the many vampires known as Atavii ², but she was also versed in the art of magic, something very rarely seen amongst her fellow vampires.

She smirked as she relished in the memories of many a vampire killer begging for mercy. But she did not kill them by conventional means. No… she was unlike her brethren. Her magic power more than sustained her in times where blood was lacking, often making for some vast entertainment when she dealt with vampire killers. The one thing she regretted about her immortality was living her life in hiding. After all, if she dared show herself to anyone she encountered years earlier, they would figure what she was and undoubtedly hunt her.

Her recollections were disturbed when the guard returned.

" _Milord_ _requests_ _thy_ _presence in the Grand Hall. Shall I escort Milady there?_ "

" _I shall find my own way,_ " she replied, waving off the request, not even bothering to thank the guard. After all, the reputation preceding her wasn't earned from acting gracious toward anyone.

As she entered the foyer, the hostile environment became much warmer, the illusory magic doing well to hide the fact someone was taking residence inside. She stood in awe and admiration at the mere majesty of the mountain castle which once housed Vlad III Tepes, the long deceased offspring of its current master. Even in her previously mortal state, the castle she lived in wasn't this grand, the recollections of her childhood vague and forgotten.

 _300 years… It seems 'twas nothing more than yesterday…_

She strode up to one of dozens of paintings, banners, and other such art adorning the stone walls. Upon closer examination, she noticed the eyes of the woman's portrait followed her every movement. Acting on her supernatural instincts, she raised her hand and prepared to cast an incantation when a voice called out, "I would take great care if I were you, _niñita_. 'Twould greatly upset his Lordship if his porters were to discover one of his prized possessions was damaged so recklessly."

The young vampire turned to see a man with a thin, pointed moustache and goatee. A rare smile crept across her face as she strode forward, embracing the newcomer.

"Many an age has passed since I laid eyes on your countenance, _Don_ Horacio Valdez de la Cuesta."

The vampire, a Spaniard whose appearance was of someone in the prime of his life, smiled the same. He knelt down and kissed Evangeline once on each cheek.

"Indeed. I presume life has been treating you with the utmost care, my former apprentice. The trees whisper of your great infamy amongst our brethren, especially in regards to your surpassing many in power."

"Indeed," the vampire smirked, "Would it please you to see a demonstration?"

"Nay, nay. I see no need for such an action," Horacio replied, waving his hands disarmingly, "The sheer amount of magical power emanating from you is quite alarming. There is no doubt you could render me asunder in not but an instant."

"And I shall do no such thing. After all, you are my former mentor. Because of your tutelage, I achieved what I have in the time we have known each other."

Before the teacher and student could continue their reminiscing, the sound of someone clearing their throat caught their attention. Both turned their heads toward the source, a vampire bedecked in the garb of one who lived in Venice during the Renaissance. Said vampire proceeded toward the teacher and student.

" _Buongiorno_ , and welcome to Castle Dracula. If ye would be of courtesy and follow. My master awaits your presence."

Some few moments later, Evangeline found herself within the Grand Hall of Castle Dracula. She noted it was extremely grandiose, much more than the places she had resided within the past three centuries. An assortment of vampires of different heritages and ages intermingled, all making light conversation. She scanned the crowd, seeing if she could pick out the master of the castle. Her eyes, however fell upon a certain individual who dared to cross paths with her many a time. The individual in question turned toward her, his cold grey eyes appraising her. Rather than react at her presence, he nodded curtly and proceeded to disappear into the crowd.

 _What in the name of God brings that man to this place?_

Casting aside her thoughts, she continued to scan the crowd until she noticed a boy about her age (had she still been mortal) who was looking extremely nervous and out of place. Although the smell of death accompanying her brethren was extremely overpowering, she cast a small incantation which allowed her to isolate the scent of the boy.

She deduced he had to be no more than 200 years of age since being turned, undoubtedly by the same method as she had been. In this respect, she felt some pity for the young soul, but at least she now had someone to relate to. His hair was a strange two-tone with the upper-half a reddish-brown color and the lower half being black. He wore simple garb, betraying he was a peasant and not of nobility much like the majority of the vampires present.

Seeing as she had no one else to talk to, she made her way to the boy. Dropping her cold demeanor and icy voice, she greeted him in asking, "Are you lost, little one?"

The boy turned to her, his cheeks turning a slight crimson color as he admired the beauty before him. Evangeline was wearing a simple pearl white gown befitting of 14th Century Scottish nobility which seemed to shimmer in the candlelight. Her long blonde hair reminded him of the Golden Fleece only told of in the mythos of the Ancient Greeks, whilst her deep blue eyes blazed more brilliantly than the rarest sapphire in the world.

"I suppose I am out of my element," he replied, regaining his composure. His accent put him in Wales, if Eva deduced correctly.

"After all," he continued, "this is my first time being in an abode as noble and decorated as this one, despite the happenings of my induction into the blood."

"You are an Atavii as well? It seems we are kindred spirits in like ways," she replied, extending her hand in greeting. "What name do you go by?"

Before the boy could reply, a call for silence came as the master of the castle came into the Grand Hall. Vlad II Dracul was everything Evangeline assumed he would be. Carrying an air of great power and influence, his silvering hair, pointed moustache, and pointed goatee betrayed his age. He wore robes befitting a nobleman of early 13th century Wallachia. His smile was warm, yet it carried a sinister edge to it.

"Welcome," he said, his thick accent accentuating his every word, "brethren, to my abode most humble. I prithee forgiveness for my tardiness as there are matters most important one must attend to at the most inconvenient of times. But, seeing as we are all well acquainted, let us make merry and light of this evening so fine!"

At this, he clapped his hands together, causing some instruments to materialize and play of their own accord. The young vampire turned to Evangeline and bowed low.

"Would you allow me the pleasure of this dance, Milady?"

Blushing slightly, she took his hand and replied, "Most certainly, Milord."

Taking her hand, the boy lead his partner to the dance floor. Slowly, the two began waltzing to the melody: a slow, somber tune which carried a hint of bittersweet memories and sadness rolled into one. As the young vampires danced, Evangeline could feel some of her lost humanity carry on back through the wordless piece. Perhaps destiny brought her to meet this boy. Though she was slightly taller, she let her head rest on his shoulder as they swayed back and forth, the melody slowly coming to an end.

Once the tune ceased, an armed guard approached the duo.

"Begging your pardon, Milady, but his Lordship requests an audience with you."

Eva turned to the vampire.

"And what of this gentleman in my company?"

"I'm afraid the isn't be permitted to accompany you. This is a matter concerning only specific individuals such as yourself."

Turning back toward her dance partner, she spoke to him in Welsh.

" _What is your name?"_

" _Nevyn Gil Springfield,"_ he replied.

" _Quite a name, if I say so myself,_ " she responded. " _For the sake of brevity, I_ _shall_ _call you Negi._ _Just play along with me for a little while_."

After briefing her new protégé, she affixed her attention on the guard.

"This gentleman is my personal manservant," she stated icily. "Wherever I go, he accompanies me. If his Lordship sees this as an imposition, I shall show myself out."

The guard's demeanor became more noticeably uncertain. Bowing his head slightly, he said, "Wait here. I shall see if Milord shall accommodate your needs."

Not but a minute later, the guard returned and bowed again.

"Milord shall entertain his audience with you and your manservant. Follow me, please."

As they followed behind the guard, Eva continued to instruct the younger vampire in his native tongue.

" _Remember,_ _do_ _not speak unless spoken to. Eye contact with nobles is not permitted unless they request your full attention._ _You may make eye contact with other manservants or handmaidens present._ _If we can make it through with this, you'll be rewarded quite well_."

Negi nodded and did as he was told. A short time later, they found themselves in what appeared to be the throne room of the old castle. He averted his gaze upward for a split second to ascertain his surroundings.

A round, polished oak table sat in the center of the room. There had to be no fewer than a dozen or so other vampires seated there with a few vacant seats. Each of the vampires seated wore garb from their respective cultures, each one speaking of nobility. It was an awe-inspiring, albeit a bit terrifying, experience for the young vampire considering his lowly upbringing. But the most terrifying aspect was to be in the presence of the legendary Vampire King himself.

The guard brought the pair to one of the vacant seats and gestured toward it. Continuing to play the part of the manservant, he pulled the chair out as his "master" seated herself upon it. Resettling the chair for her comfort, he stepped back and averted his gaze from the other vampires seated at the table. Remembering what he was told, he turned to his left to take stock of any other vampires in his position.

The vampire in said position was definitely an interesting looking fellow. His skin tone indicated he came from the Far East, though Negi couldn't pinpoint where. The garb he wore was a simple back robe of sorts tied with burgundy colored sash. The shoes were perhaps the most interesting aspect. Negi had seen many different pairs in his time, but these ones were made of wood with a simple leather strap keeping them attached to their owner's feet.

The fellow took notice of this and turned toward Negi, bowing deeply at the waist.

"拙者犬上 小太郎と申す ³" he stated, remaining in his bowed stance.

The young boy was unsure of what to do. He couldn't understand a word the vampire spoke. Before he could formulate a response, a thick, Germanic voice from the chair next to the servant said, "You must forgive my manservant Kotarō, young one. He doesn't speak English all too well, but I'm slowly training him."

The speaker turned his seat toward Negi. The vampire, a young man appearing to be in his late teens, was bedecked in garb belonging to a nobleman from early 10th Century Bavaria, the colors matching those of the vampire he called Kotarō. His hair, tied back in a braid appeared blood-red in color; his eyes shone a cold, steel grey.

The German continued to speak to Negi.

"What is your name?"

Swallowing the lump of nervousness in his throat, the young boy replied, "Nevyn Gil Springfield, your Lordship. However, I am known as Negi."

"I would take great care in associating with this one," scoffed Eva as she turned toward the elder vampire. "He could put you under his control with nary a word, thought, or gesture."

"Still as ruthless as they come, _Maga Nosferatu_ ," came the impassive reply from the vampire.

"The same can be said for yourself, Baron."

Negi stood between the two bickering vampires, unsure of what to make of the situation. On the one hand, he was somewhat shocked with the fact he had the honor of dancing with Evangeline Athanasia Katherine McDowell, the most notorious of the Atavii. On the other hand, he was frightened of the consequences a dispute between the aforementioned Atavii and another member of their noble bloodline whose potential in magic could possibly be equal would bring.

Before any such conflict could arise, another voice spoke, this one belonging to a young girl with a thick Slavic accent.

"While the feelings between the two of you are mutual, it would be unwise to start a fight within the abode of his Eminence."

The baron turned toward the young girl, a redhead wearing ceremonial armor. Bowing his head slightly, he replied, "My apologies, Dame Cocolova. I was merely greeting the _Maga Nosferatu_."

"And your apology is duly noted," the girl replied before affixing her attention on Eva. "Lady McDowell, please remember you are here upon an invitation from his Eminence. If you wish to continue these hostilities, nothing would make my day more than to personally remove you from these grounds."

"Your warning is noted, Anya," the vampire replied, her voice smarmy and confident.

"Don't try my patience, Eva."

"Well, well," a new voice spoke with a slight chuckle. "It seems we are all feeling fairly full of life. This pleases me."

All seated at the table, with the exception of Eva, immediately rose and bowed low, their manservants doing the same. The vampire named Anya called out aloud, "All hail Dracula, King of Vampires!"

The great Count observed all before him, giving a ghost of a glance toward the impassive Scottish lass. Without hesitation, he took his seat at the ornate chair set aside for him and gestured for his brethren to join him. After all had taken their seats, he addressed the assembled.

"I thank you kindly for your quick response, Imperatrix. As the majority of you are aware, I recently concluded a journey to the western reaches of Europe to establish diplomatic ties with other covens. While it was uneventful, Count DuPont informed me he will keep eyes on any potential coven beginning to form. However, there are two important pieces of business to attend to before the evening is out."

The Count snapped his fingers. A servant adorned in garb of the Elizabethan era stepped forward with a box and a sword. He approached his master, knelt down, and presented the two items to him: a large, ornate blade and a ring. The latter received the items and dismissed the servant. Turning back to the table, he called out, "Lady McDowell, come forward."

Negi took the cue and assisted the vampire out of her seat. Eva proceeded toward the master of the castle and stood there with no sign of obeisance. Dracula gave a humorless chuckle.

"Even in my presence, _Maga Nosferatu_ , you still refuse to show loyalty to any figure of authority."

"I answer only to myself, Count," she replied curtly.

"I'll ignore your impertinence for now. The reason I called you here, with the approval of the Consortium, is to bestow something unto you."

The Count took Eva's right hand in his and slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a simple ring made of gold with a small inscription upon it.

"This ring," the elder vampire continued, "grants you the honorary rank of Duchess within my realm. By no means does it impart power over my subjects. Rather, it grants you access to a portion of my resources on the full moon of each lunar cycle. Your reputation is more than enough for the subjects to give you ample room."

Eva admired the ring briefly before tipping her head slightly and returning to her seat. Once she was seated, Dracula turned back toward the assembled.

"The final order of business to be attended to will begin with the induction of the newest member of the Order."

The chamber soon began to fill with quiet discussion. Though Negi wasn't extremely versed in the structure of his race's society, he knew of the importance of membership in the famed _Fraternitati Dracule_. Many an Atavii would apply; only a select few were ever inducted based on their prowess in combat, magical skill, and proficiency in the abilities of their heritage.

"This individual," the Count continued, "show great prowess in Earth-based magic and illusory spells. They possess an innate ability which, when utilized to its maximum potential, will allow us to break those who dare to challenge us. Baron Reinhart von Luitpolding, please come forward."

The redheaded German rose from his seat. Before he could make his way toward the Count, alarm bells rang out. An armed guard materialized near Dracula.

"Milord!" he exclaimed with trepidation, "Vampire hunters! There must be no more than two-score! They've managed to eradicate the entire front guard!"

Anxiety began to permeate the chamber, with the exception of Eva and Reinhart, the latter addressing the Count directly.

"Milord, perhaps now would be an opportune moment for me to..."

"That shan't be necessary, Baron," Vlad II Dracul interrupted. "I shall summon the elite guard and take these intruders on myself. Should I fall this day, the Order must survive and continue our great lineage. As my final decree – unless we should meet again – is for all of you here this day to go your separate ways. I shall address the revelers and tell them the same. Begone, all of you, and may the night guide you to safety.

With those words, the great Count disappeared from their presence, the others in the chamber following suit. However, Eva turned to Negi slipped the ring she had received not but a moment earlier from her finger."

"Take this as a token of my gratitude," she told him, her voice uncharacteristically emotional by her standards. "Should we ever meet again, present this ring to me so I know your promise is kept."

Negi bowed deeply, kissing the vampire's extended hand before taking the ring from her. As he melded with the shadows, he called out, "Godspeed, _Maga Nosferatu_. I promise you this day we _shall_ meet again, even if eternity should fall!"

* * *

1- Poenari Castle is the historic home of Vlad the Impaler. In this continuity, it serves as the home of Vlad II Dracul (the Dracula of this timeline rather than his son).

2- Latin for "ancestor"; This is the name given to vampires that will come to be known Shinso in due time

3- Romaji = "Sessha Inugami Kotarou tomoussu"; English = "This humble one is known as Kotarou Inugami". Sessha (clumsy one) was often used by samurai to show great humility when referring to themselves.


	2. Chapter I

**DISCLAIMER** : Negima! Magister Negi Magi and all associated locations and characters are property of Ken Akamatsu and all respective proprietors. Reinhart von Luitpolding is property of Ghost Writer Orange-kun and is used with his permission. All other Original Characters are property of The Noble Coffee Bean.

* * *

I. Of Greetings, Unusual Circumstances, and Shinso

 _Mahora District, Tokyo, Japan, 300 years later_

"Evangeline, are you awake?"

The young vampire stirred, her eyes heavy from the sleep she endured all evening.

"Chachamaru," the girl groused, "what did I tell you about waking me when I'm in the middle of a restful sleep?"

"I'm sorry for having disturbed you, but I thought I'd let you know classes start today."

Evangeline cursed inwardly. Though she was dearly fond of the young woman who resided with her, she often wondered why she took her in. She was kind and almost motherly. The drawback to this was how often she reminded her of the one thing that she resented about being trapped where she was for the foreseeable future. Yawning and stretching like a cat, she called back, "I'll be ready within a few minutes."

Chachamaru Karakuri nodded a silent affirmation as she busied herself with getting her books and other materials ready. It was often at times like these she reflected on her unusual circumstance. Her memories of the night she had received a new lease on life were stronger than anything else she could remember.

* * *

 _Five Years Ago_

" _Hi there cupcake. What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here at this time of night?"_

 _The young woman turned as she saw a group of young men, probably not much older than she was, following her at a close distance. She could feel a cold ball form in her stomach. Something about these hooligans did not sit well with her._

" _Look," she replied, her nervous tone-of-voice apparent when she spoke, "Just leave me alone."_

" _Aw," one of the boys cooed derisively, "It looks like this babe is having a rough night."_

" _We can make you feel better if you wish," the apparent ringleader, a rather muscly looking fellow called out, striding toward her. Without second thought, she tore off toward the school campus, hoping one of the security officers on the grounds would be in her immediate area. She had no need of looking back to know they were following her._

 _There was one benefit to being trapped at a school: it served as an endless blood bank. Evangeline was very well of the fact she was only increasing her imprisonment. It mattered little to her; she was a vampire after all, and blood was her only source of food. Wishing she could use her magic powers was futile. After all, a dual-layered barrier covering the entire campus served to greatly inhibit her power. This, in turn, caused her to practically regain her mortality in times when her blood supply was lacking. She needed fresh blood from a new victim._

 _As she stepped out of the cottage she called home, a weak voice called out from nearby, "Help me… please…"_

 _The vampire took very little time in locating the source. She happened upon a mortal girl of about fifteen years of age. Her hair was dyed a light-green color with matching eyes, probably with the aid of the contraption they called contact lenses. The girl's clothing was in tatters, her skin covered in lacerations and bruises. The smell exuding from her meant only one thing: this girl had been the victim of rape. Normally, she wouldn't bother with such matters, but Evangeline felt her anger and rage flare up inside. What was going on with her? She normally felt no such emotions, but the sight of the girl was awakening something in her. Who would be so sickening as to take advantage of a young woman like this?_

" _Help me… please…" the girl on the ground croaked out again._

 _The vampire was in a bind. She desperately wanted to help the beaten, broken, young woman, but her skill with healing magic was subpar. She knew she'd be able to heal the open wounds. However, if there were internal injuries, there was no way she could take care of them. By the young woman's looks and her state of well-being, she didn't have much time left. This left her with another conflict: she could turn the girl through conventional means, but that would curse her to a life she more than likely would not want to live. Even if she completed the ritual as it had been done to her so long ago, the result would inevitably be the same._

" _I… feel… cold… Please! Help…"_

 _Evangeline knelt down to the dying girl. She knew what she was about to do was going to be a mistake, but her lost humanity came breaking through her. Quietly reciting the incantation to the best of her memory, she called upon the runic circle needed to complete the ritual. Once it was finished, she knelt down. Cradling the girl's head in her lap, she whispered, "This may hurt, but it will help you."_

 _The last thing the young woman remembered before blacking out was a sharp pain in her neck. Time seemed to stand still._

* * *

Chachamaru reflected on the events which occurred shortly after the incident. She had woken up inside the cottage as a burning sensation assaulted her throat. Screaming for help, she failed to notice Evangeline coming up the stairs. The young vampire approached her, explained what she was, the burning in the young woman's throat, and what she would need to do in order to survive. Evangeline then offered her arm with which Chachamaru had latched onto greedily, slaking her thirst for what would become her life source.

Any normal person would consider her position a curse, but to the young woman, this curse was a gift. Though Evangeline had attempted to persuade her to avenge herself, she declined, stating those who assaulted and had their way with her would pay in due time. She had been an orphan living on the streets with nowhere to go, making her easy prey for the thugs that often haunted the side-streets and alleyways at night. Now, she had a place to call home and another soul to call a sister. Evangeline had originally balked at the very idea of being a sister but eventually warmed up and accepted the offer.

The only thing about the young vampire that troubled Chachamaru was her incessant need to feed on living victims. The latter had found a doctor in the Shinjuku District who operated a blood bank. The good doctor was a vampire much like themselves. Knowing of the former's history and state of imprisonment, he agreed to provide blood for both Chachamaru and Evangeline. The latter, however, refused to drink blood which came from a postmortem state. The green-haired vampire recalled it had something to do with the taste of the blood… at least it was the excuse that Evangeline used. Despite her amount of heavy protesting and due in part to Chachamaru's gentle reminders of her imprisonment, the young vampire finally resigned herself to drinking the donated blood.

Turning her head, she saw the young vampire make her way down the stairs. She wore the school uniform of Mahora Academy Jr. High: a white dress shirt with a small red necktie and a maroon plaid skirt. A blazer of the same color as the skirt covered the dress with the emblem of the academy emblazoned on the left chest pocket.

"Let's just hope this day gets over with," the young vampire sighed, "The less time I have to spend around that insufferable warden, the better off I'll be."

* * *

"So, you are the new teacher who will be taking over Takahata's class from my understanding. Would I be correct?"

The young boy nodded, fidgeting nervously under the gaze of the old man seated before him. He had heard many things about Konoemon Konoe, dean of Mahora Academy. One rumor said he was a powerful mage who could kill a person at first glance. Another said he was a perverted old man who took over the mostly all-girl's school for the sole purpose of being surrounded by beautiful women, among many other things. However, it wasn't any of these that made him nervous. What made the boy nervous was the sensation of a powerful barrier in place which seemed to severely inhibit his abilities, betraying what he was.

The dean, much to his surprise, laughed loudly.

"Ho, ho, ho! Don't be nervous, young man. I know what you are, but you have no need to fear me. I'm no vampire killer as long as you don't victimize any of the students here. I employ someone else to do the dirty work for me."

The vampire sighed with relief. At least he was safe for the time being.

"Very well, it seems that everything is in order. There's a student waiting outside of the office to show you to your class. Remember, Nevyn Gil Springfield, if any harm is to come to my students at your hands, there will be consequences.

The boy bowed deeply, taking the man's warning very seriously.

"Arigatō gozaimasu. I hope to live up to your expectations as a teacher."

Clapping his hands together, the dean replied, "That's the spirit. Surely you'll have much knowledge to teach these girls as you've undoubtedly experienced many incredible things in your long life."

Bowing deeply in respect again, the young boy walked out of the office and nearly straight into the young woman standing outside.

"Gomen nasai. I did not see you there."

He looked up so as to properly address the student, his expression going from apologetic to nervous. This girl carried an aura of strong will and great power about her. Her long, red hair was tied back into twin ponytails, each bearing a set of bells on them. Her eyes exhibited heterochromia, one green and the other blue.

"What's your name?" she asked, her tone being somewhat commanding.

"Nevyn Gil Springfield," he promptly replied, "though you may call me Negi."

"A strange nickname considering that it means 'spring onion'," she replied. "However, it's your lucky day considering no one's placed a bounty on your head. The name's Asuna Kagurazaka. Now if you'll follow me, I'll lead you to your new class."

"Arigatō, I guess..." the vampire said pensively. Something about the way she addressed him unnerved him. It was a blessing seeing as no one had placed a bounty on him but a curse that one of his potential students was a bounty hunter. Keeping his troubles to himself, he followed the redhead to his destination while inquiring, "How did you know what I was?"

"In English," Asuna replied. "We don't discuss things of the supernatural or magical variety in our native tongue here, unless you wish for prying ears to hear about said topics."

"I'm sorry."

"And you apologize too much," she continued to say. "You're a special case. Most Shinso I've encountered have never been as such."

Negi stopped abruptly, the term he just heard confusing him a bit.

"Shinso?" he inquired.

"Oh, right," the redhead spoke as she continued walking. "Where you come from, you're called Atavii. The term is no longer relevant seeing as many of your kindred spirits are dead or in hiding. Here, we call them Shinso. It derives from the two kanji 'Shēn' and 'chǔ'. Together, they mean 'Great Ancestor'."

"Right," the boy said as he absorbed this new knowledge. "Are you one of my students, by the way."

As they reached the door to the classroom, Asuna turned to her teacher and handed him the class roster.

"Yes," she stated. "And, for your sake, it'd be best if you wait until the tardy bell rings before you enter. The class can be a bit rowdy. While you're hundreds of years old, you're still a boy. There's no telling what my classmates would do to a boy your age."

* * *

"So, did you hear we've got a new homeroom teacher?"

"What? Shut up! No way! Are you serious?"

"Like totally serious about this one!"

"Whatever happened to Takahata-sensei?"

"Something about him having to take a leave or something. I dunno!"

If it wasn't the warden that got to Evangeline, it was the incessant chatter and gossip of pubescent teenage girls which drove her up the wall. No matter how much she resigned herself to the fact that she was in this kind of environment, it seemed to get worse and worse with each passing year. It bothered her to no end that the only thing these girls could ever talk about was the flavor of the lip gloss they were wearing that day, boyfriends, the latest manga chapter, their favorite anime episode, the newest fashion trends… it drawled on and on. She wondered to herself why she hadn't asked Kagurazaka to finish her off so she could be spared the pity.

 _Even if I did ask her to, she'd probably deny me even the privilege. I think she secretly delights in subjecting me to this despicable, unfathomable, loathsome torture day in and day out. I really need to get out of here!_

Absentmindedly, her thoughts went back to that fateful day nearly three centuries prior. She wondered what ever had happened to the young lad. He was probably still in Europe hiding out for fear of his. Either that, or he was dead already. The idea soured her mood even further.

Her reminiscing was disturbed when she heard the door to the classroom slide open. A look of disgust crossed her face as Asuna entered the room.

 _And here I am, spending each passing day hoping that she meets her maker or dies… why can't she just vanish off the face of this earth?_

The bells tolled, signaling the tardy warning. Almost immediately, everyone in the class quieted down and went to their seats. Shortly thereafter, the door slid open. Thirty-one pairs of eyes turned toward the door as a small boy entered the room. He wore a green suit over a white dress shirt and red necktie. A small set of spectacles sat perched on his nose. His hair was a rather strange two-tone, the upper half red and the lower half black, and tied back into a small ponytail.

The Scottish lass almost started instinctively.

 _Is it… no… it couldn't be… could it?_

Though the smell betrayed that he was a vampire much like herself, she kept wrestling with her own doubts and memories in her mind.

"Ohayō gozaimasu. My name is Negi Springfield, and I am to be your homeroom teacher for this year."

The unmistakeable accent, humility, and manner of speech cast all doubts aside.

 _It_ is _him…_

Before he could speak any further, a shout of "Kawaii!" filled the classroom. Shortly thereafter, he was amassed by nearly every girl in the class, save for a few who knew how to control themselves or were in just plain shock that a young boy was their teacher. At this point, a tall, blonde girl stood up and slammed her hands upon her desk.

"Everyone, back to your seats!" she half-shouted sternly, "I don't think you want to kill your new teacher, do you?"

One of the girls, a redhead with her hair done up in twin pigtails, replied, "But Īnchō, we were just asking him some questions was all."

The blonde rubbed her forehead before responding, "Shīna-san, everyone, just please do as I ask and return to your seats. After all, Springfield-sensei does have a class to teach."

Silently, and without protest, the girls that had flooded the front desk returned to their seats. Negi turned to the blonde and bowed, saying "Arigatō gozaimasu, uh…"

"Yukihiro Ayaka," she replied quickly, giving him a warm smile. "Welcome to Class 2A, of which I'm glad to say I'm the Class President."

"My thanks to you again, Yukihiro-san," the boy replied gratefully before turning toward the rest of the class. "Now, ladies, if you'd please turn to page twenty-five so we can begin. There will be plenty of time after class for questions."

The lesson, for the most part, was uneventful, except for the occasional scolding of a few of the girls by Ayaka. Negi realized that she wasn't elected the Class President for nothing. In due time, the lesson finished, leaving about five minutes. The bespectacled vampire closed his book.

"Okay ladies. As promised, I will now answer as many of your questions as I can within the five minutes we have left. When I point at you, please introduce yourself, any club activities you participate in, and then your question."

Most of the girls' hands went up, just as he had expected. He pointed at a girl with purple hair tied in large, twin ponytails and wearing a blank expression on her face. She stood up and spoke in a voice that accentuated her blank stare.

"Ayase Yue, member of the Library Expedition Club and a student Librarian. By your accent, I would presume you hail from the British Isles?"

Bowing in respect at the girl, he replied, "Hajimemashite Ayase-san. You are correct in your assumption. I'm from Tregaron, Wales."

He then pointed at another girl, this one with her red hair tied back up into a spiked ponytail that reminded the vampire of a pineapple fruit. She introduced herself as Asakura Kazumi of the Journalism Club and student newspaper before proceeding to ask, "How did a ten-year-old such as yourself become a teacher here at an all-girls junior-high?"

The boy smiled disarmingly before responding, "That will be a tale for another time Asakura-san. If I answer that one, I'd take up more than the few minutes we have remaining."

The next girl, a Saotome Haruna, also of the Library Expedition Club, inquired, "How does it feel being all the way across the world, far from your home?"

"It's been interesting thus far, Saotome-san. I must say that it is quite the culture shock, but I think it will come to grow on me."

Before he could call on one of the other students, a voice that seemed to come from a time long passed spoke in pristine Welsh.

" _And how was it that you came to this land of the Far East? Was it recently, or did you travel along the Silk Road of old?_ "

Negi turned toward the speaker, his face betraying no emotion yet his heart leaping in relief and joy. He had only dreamed of the day that he would see her again.

"That," he replied, "is also a tale for another time."

Shortly thereafter, the bell rang to signal the end of the school day. As most of the class filed out, he called after them.

"Girls, if you'd please, read pages thirty through thirty-five for your homework. There will be a short quiz on the material tomorrow."

"Also," Ayaka called out, "I need the members of the Student Patrol and Occult Studies Club to remain behind, there's a few things we need to discuss."

After the clamoring died down, Negi turned to face those left. Alongside Ayaka, Asuna, and the speaker from earlier, those present before him were a Chinese girl with her hair dyed blonde, a tall girl with squinted eyes, a chocolate haired young lady accompanied by another young lady with a stoic expression and posture, and a dark-skinned woman appearing to be from India. Silently, he approached the speaker from earlier and knelt down, presenting a simple gold ring with an inscription upon it.

"I believe this belongs to you, Milady."

Taking the ring slowly from him, the girl slid it back upon her finger, some tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"It seems you've kept your promise after all, boy." she said, her normally icy tone filled with emotion.

In that moment, the two embraced each other tightly, unwilling to let each other go. Though they had only met once centuries ago, it was his promise to her that had become the foundation for an inseparable bond and a rock of hope for the girl who had forsaken everything in her curse.


End file.
